


Sorcerer Prince

by Third Dash (Zapakk)



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2018-01-04
Packaged: 2019-02-03 21:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12756819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zapakk/pseuds/Third%20Dash
Summary: Born as the second prince,, Harry is neglected by his parents. Watch as an insecure, damaged and vulnerable Harry fights to establish his name in a world where everyone is fighting for control and power. With enemies everywhere and with magic at his disposal, can harry earn the loyalty of the realm or will he be lost to his own hatred. OOC characters and mature content. Harry/Multi





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> AN:  
> This story is a WIP on Fanfiction.net. I was hoping to reach a different set of audience here. Let me know what you think about it. 
> 
> This is a crossover between HP and ASOIAF universe. Harry has died in his original universe and reborn in the new one as the second son of Cersei and Robert with flashes of previous memories. He is not the same as he was in the previous life, the royal upbringing has ensured that. The magic in this story will be highly muted compared to HP universe in order to bring it down to the level of this universe. The lead characters will be highly OOC so please don't complain about that. English is like my 3rd language so please excuse the mistakes. Your reviews are appreciated.
> 
> Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter nor A Song of Ice and Fire belong to me.
> 
> Warnings: Smut, lemons, incest, rape(like) scenes and severe psychological trauma.

Chapter 1

Harry POV

The ride through the kingswood forest left him soggy, sore and annoyed. His clothes and shoes were caked with mud as the party was forced to make haste towards the nearest inn before the last shafts of sunlight receded beyond the horizon.

These were the very forests where the Kingswood Brotherhood once ruled the roost. Men like Simon Toyne and The Smiling Knight ended the lives of quite a few highborn like him. No matter how peaceful the realm seemed, camping out in the open in such a place with a party his size was not an option. He could feel most of his companions unhappy with the pace he set but such was the price for being in the company of the second prince of the realm, Harrison Baratheon.

The reason he was forced to set such a gruelling pace was that the hands tourney. Harrison had received the invitation barely a week before the date due to that ancient snivelling maester Pycelle, likely on his dear mother's orders.

Cersei Lannister, mother above bless her, loved all her children, as long as they were perfect copies of her. The woman adored Joffery, his older brother and the crown prince. She cared for Myrcella, and was fond of little Tommen. But when it came to him, all he could sense from the woman was thinly disguised contempt and loathing. The woman either ignored him completely or belittled him with vile insults.

Once upon a time, her indifference and her loathing may have hurt him, but that time was long gone. Life in the red keep ensured that you grew up fast. The place was a cesspool of intrigue and deceit. Every single person had a hidden agenda and if you didn't learn how to read them quickly, you were likely to be a pawn in their games. Harrison was never going to be a pawn. He had dreams of a time when he had been a pawn, playing to the tunes of his mentor and his nemesis while both of them played their little games.

He remembered quite a few things from those dreams of his. Dragons as tall as the sky, snakes that could kill with a stare, people waving bits of wood at each other and performing the most wonderful tasks.The only way to describe them would be magic. He had tried to replicate those feats but no matter which wood he used, he couldn't feel the magic. He had once asked Pycelle if magic was real. The bastard had scoffed at him and told his father how Harrison was sleeping off in lessons and coming up with outlandish claims. Not that his father had cared either. A light rebuke and his father was once again deep in his cups.

Harrison was used to neglect and apathy from his parents. He remembered in the dreams that even in his previous life, his caregivers didn't care about him much, preferring the fat kid over him.

Moving to Storm's End had given him the freedom he had yearned for most of his life. He was the heir to Storm's End and after one too many fights with Jofferey, his father had decided that it would do him good to learn more about his castle and his people. Thus at the age of 9, Harry had moved to Storm's End.

The first thing he had done in Storm's End was replace the maester with one who had a valyrian steel link in his collar. Alas Maester Garrick wasn't much better than Pycelle. He knew of a few blood magic rituals practiced in far east in Essos but that was the extent of his abilities. In his words, Magic had disappeared from the world since the demise of dragons.

With no proof to the contrary, Harry almost believed him until he visited the weirwood tree at Storm's End. The ancient, gnarled old tree was like a fount of magic. It was under it's branches that Harry had his first brush with real magic. He had managed to summon a few sparks, not much but it was definitely a start.

Since that fateful day, Harry spent hours under the tree trying to get his magic to work. He had improved, albeit slowly. He still couldn't do things on the scale that he had seen in his dreams but at least he could cast a few useful charms that could mean the difference between life and death.

He made sure to practice after dark. It wouldn't do to have rumours of a sorcerer prince to circulate now, would it ? The faith of the seven had a strong view against the practice of magic. Harry couldn't afford to have the faith up in arms against him. Most of the people in the seven kingdoms followed the seven, or atleast those that mattered did. The north men had little stake in the game until his father had decided to slap the badge of The Hand on Ned Stark's chest.

Ned Stark could be a potential ally, as the Northmen prayed to the weirwoods, the apparent source of his powers. He'd have to wait and see for himself the scope of such a partnership. Harrison knew the value of having powerful allies on his side, particularly when he knew he could count on his mother to sabotage him at every chance she gets.

Harrison was broken out of his musings by a celebratory shout coming from his right. It seemed like riding for the day was over as a small inn came into view. His half-brother, Edric Storm had been the first to spot it and point it out. Edric was the result of his father dallying with some florent girl. The boy lived with him at the Storm's End. He was just a couple of years younger than Harry.

Built like an ox, Edric was a perfect copy of his father, save for the floppy ears which he got from the florent girl. Loyal, lovable and hardworking, Edric had taken to Harry the moment he arrived at Storm's End. Always following him around like a lost puppy, Edric was amongst his closest friends. He was quite good with a war hammer and Harry had made sure that Edric got the necessary training to see him reach his potential.

Finally reaching the inn, Harry saw that the place was nothing more than a rundown little cottage with a barn but it would do for the night. He waited on his horse as Edric scrambled to dismount and take a hold of his horse's reigns.

Harry had just recently been knighted by Ser Mandon Moore, his kingsguard protector and trainer. Harry had squired for the man for the last 6 years before earning his spurs. Mandon Moore was a lethal, silent killing machine but that was the sum total of his positive points. Surly, silent and with lifeless eyes, Mandon Moore gave Harry the creeps. He had a sneeking suspicion that he was saddled with Mandon Moore because neither his father nor Jon Arryn cared much for the man and wanted to get rid of him. With his recently developing skill to peep into thoughts of those around him, he had found out that Mandon Moore apparently owed a favour to Littlefinger, the biggest brothel owner of Kings Landing. What the favour exactly was, he couldn't find out but he knew Mandon Moore would never be loyal to him. So he made use of him to better his skill at surviving the ruthless battles of this world while keeping him at an arms length from his private dealings and plans.

Just a moon's turn ago, Harry had finally managed to best Mandon Moore in single combat, earning him his spurs. That very afternoon, Edric had come to him and begged to be his squire. No other knight at Storm's End would take the bastard as a squire, preventing him from knighthood. Harry had taken pity on the lad and accepted his request. He wasn't likely to lose prestige by having a bastard squire as everyone would see it as his love for his half brother and not his lack of fame to have a highborn squire. Besides, the relationship with ones squire was a close one and Edric was more likely to keep his myriad secrets than some highborn ponce with an agenda of his own.

Turning towards Erron, Harry commanded him to look after the horses while the party rested at the inn. The innkeeper was an old man with a toothy smile. Hos eyes lit up on seeing the party enter his rundown inn. Harry had chicken broth and rum served to all of his men while he asked for his food to be sent to his room before retiring for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> About the story, the pace of development is a bit slow right now, but it will pick up, hopefully. The plot will mostly follow canon for a reference. There will be many changes, but the direction of story will be somewhat similar to canon. The pairings aren't final yet but I believe I have a pretty good idea how I want this story to pan out. Daenerys will probably not show up in this story until very late and even then, her character will be kind of minor. You can chalk that up to author bias, I hate the girl. Also, I have aged up the characters a bit in this story.
> 
> Joffery- 16
> 
> Jon - 17
> 
> Daenerys - 16
> 
> Harry- 15
> 
> Robb- 17
> 
> Myrcella- 14
> 
> Sansa- 14
> 
> Arya - 11
> 
> Bran - 9
> 
> Tommen- 9
> 
> Rickon - 6
> 
> I need a beta so let me know if anyone is interested.
> 
> Disclaimer: Neither Harry Potter nor A Song of Ice and Fire belong to me.
> 
> Warning: Lemon scene. This is perhaps the first time I am writing one and I am not at all happy about how it turned out. But I decided to stick with it since I heard something about practice and perfect.

Chapter 2

Kara POV

The ride had left her sore in all the wrong places. She longed to return to Storm's End and sleep in the featherbed instead of the hard cot that the innkeeper provided. No, Kara was no noblewoman. She was, in the simplest words, the Prince's mistress. Born to a kitchen maid and some crownlands hedge knight, Kara was of age with the prince. Her mother had come to Kings Landing as a part of Queen Cersei's entourage. People had described her as a beauty since she was a child. Long blonde hair and cool blue eyes, many a man had tried to lure her to their beds.

Growing up close to the royal children, she had always admired Prince Harrison from afar. After his banishment from the red keep, yes banishment even though it was sugar coated as an opportunity to learn about the Stormlands , Kara had followed the Prince against the wishes of her mother. The Prince needed someone to look after him and if Kara could make the place just a little bit like home for the prince, then she would.

Kara was in love with the prince since forever and had always wanted to be his. So, when she had her moonsblood for the first time, she slipped inside the covers with him and gave herself completely to her prince. Since then, she slept in her Prince's bed more often than not, or whenever he had need of her. She knew that with the ride they had, her prince definitely needed her tonight.

Looking over to the kitchen, she saw the innkeeper's daughter preparing a plate for the prince. The girl was a cute little thing, with brown hair and button nose. Her gown was a little too low cut, perhaps to entice the prince. His father was famous across the seven kingdoms for his appetite for whores and it looked like innkeeper's daughter planned to see if the son was cut from the same cloth.

If the little trollop thought it was so easy to replace Kara, she had another thing coming. Marching over to the girl, Kara commanded her to hand over the Prince's plate. An ugly frown manifested on the girl's face and it looked like she might refuse. Kara subtly unsheathed a dagger from her hip to help convince the girl to comply. Taking over the plate, Kara marched over to the Prince's room and knocked on the door.

"Come in."

Opening the door, Kara witnessed the bare back of her prince riddled with many a scar he earned during his long years of squiring for that scary kingsguard. Harry was taking a bath in the tub. Placing the plate on the side table, Kara moved over to the tub to help clean her prince.

"Ohh, it's you. Took you long enough." Harry visibly relaxed on seeing her. She was right. Her prince did need her.

"The innkeeper's daughter needed some convincing. She looked like she wanted to feed you with her own hands." Kara replied as she threaded her fingers through the long messy black locks of the prince. If it was one thing that the prince inherited from his father, it was his hair. Jet black hair that perpetually seemed ruffled by a wind, Harry's hair seemed to have a life of their own. It was somehow fitting for the Prince of Storm to have his hair caught up in an eternal storm.

Harry turned towards her and she got to witness his emerald green eyes. Those eyes were perhaps the most beautiful part of him. One could lose themselves in their infinite depth as they always seemed to swirl with mystique and power. She had heard many a maiden sigh and comment on their beauty while working.

"And you got jealous ?" Harry's words broke her out of her musing. "You know I wouldn't just replace you with some random girl I find in an out of the way cottage. You are more important to me than that. Did you test the food ?"

Shit, she hadn't tested the food for poison. One of her responsibilities was to taste the Prince's food to prevent anyone from assassinating him through poison. Harry had once called her to his chambers and asked her who she was truly loyal to. The answer was as clear to her as breathing but the way the prince was staring into her eyes unnerved her.

She chalked it up to one of the many strange things the prince got up to in his spare time. When she had answered, the prince had smiled down at her in the way that made her heart melt and told her that she was his closest confidant. That day had cemented her place at Harry's side. He took her to bed and for the first time, it felt like it meant more than just sating some carnal needs.

Since then, she took up some duties exclusively. She was the only one allowed inside his chambers. She was responsible for cleaning them. She tested his wine and food for poison. She kept an eye on his quarters. She spied on the smallfolk of Storm's End and brought useful information to Harry. She was also supposed to keep his secrets about anything she might witness in his company. Later, she had found out that the prince had questioned a few other girls similarly but only she had passed whatever hidden test was there in the Prince's words.

She left the prince in his bath and moved to the table to test the food.

"Careful, there's a viper in the bed." The prince warned. This was another one of the strange things that the prince got up to, his fascination for snakes. There was always atleast one in his room, guarding something. On quite a few occasions, she had heard him hiss something to the snake and watch the snake comply. She knew the prince practiced magic.

He spent quite a few hours every night under the cursed weirwood tree trying to move pebbles around or light up torches by staring at them. She had witnessed him perform quite a few miracles. She knew magic was a curse, the seven said so. But she just couldn't bring herself to go against Harry. Perhaps the magic the seven spoke against was different. Perhaps only the Northern magic was cursed, the one practiced by those tree worshipping heathens. Even if the Prince was cursed, she had made her bed with him. If he was to be damned, then they'd be damned together.

There was a splash as Harry got out of the tub and reached for a towel. She quickly moved to him and started wiping him dry. His muscles were rock hard from long hours in the yard. This close to him, she couldn't help but breathe in the heady smell of Holly and leather that was so characteristically Harry.

"No Treacle Tarts ?" Harry asked as he moved over to eat.

"Of course not. Hardly anyone knows how to make that stuff. I don't even know how you came up with it." Harry had one day entered the kitchens and shown all the maids how to make some bizarre cake like treat that he had then named Treacle Tarts.

"Saw it in a dream really. Thought it might taste good." Harry replied nonchalantly.

"You are perhaps the only boy who dreams of exotic dishes." She mocked. She liked moments like these, when they could talk just like they did when they were young. Now, the gulf between their stations was so wide that even speaking directly to Harry in company was frowned upon. Only behind closed doors did their friendship thrive.

"A man now, or would you like another proof of that ?" Harry said while giving her a steamy look.

"I might not be opposed to another demonstration, my prince."

*Lemon start*

Her hands crawled slowly towards the knot holding her gown together, a gift from Harry. A low growl escaped Harry's throat as he lunged towards her. His teeth scraped against her exposed neck as he littered it with kisses. His hands fumbled with the knot for a moment before he just yanked hard and tore through her gown.

A whine escaped her lips."Not the gown Harry, it is the prettiest one I brought along."

"We are going to Kings Landing. I'll buy you a new one made from the finest silks, love." Of course he would. Men would say just about anything when their blood was hot. Nevertheless, she accepted his promise and slipped out of her now torn gown. Underneath, she was as naked as her nameday. She had come prepared, she knew what was going to happen.

She looked up just in time to see Harry pull her close before locking her lips in a searing kiss. She was wet, and she wanted relief now. Moving her hand over to his manhood, she felt it's hardness. She was pleased with how much Harry wanted her. Refusing to deny them both the pleasure anymore, she guided his member inside her and sank down on it with a hiss. Harry's hands immediately grabbed her hips while his mouth latched on to her nipple. Her back arched from the pleasure coursing through her veins. Harry's hips smashed up towards her rhythmically, making her bounce in his lap. She was agonizingly close when Harry erupted inside her like a warm geyser. She could feel him spurt inside her before growing limp.

"Not yet. Please don't pull out. I'm so close." She somehow managed to whisper while grinding herself on top of him to get that elusive pleasure.

"I'm right here. I'm not leaving you. Now cum for me sweetling." Harry's hand joined hers in rubbing her womanhood as his words finally brought her to an orgasm. She bit down on his shoulder, hard to stop a moan from escaping as throes of pleasure wracked through her body.

*Lemon end*

After coming down from the bliss, the two of them moved under the covers. She wrapped her arms around his torso as sleep finally overtook them both.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry woke up just as the first shafts of sunlight broke over the horizon. His gaze fell on his naked bed companion. With the covers pulled down just enough to expose her perky breasts, Kara looked like a golden nymph. He tucked a strand of golden hair behind her ear before cupping her soft cheeks. There was no denying his fondness of the girl.

He did realize that she was a liability. Sure, she was utterly devoted to him today. But what about when he had to take a highborn girl as his lady wife. He held no illusions about their relationship. Kara was a friend, a lover, but not a lady of a keep. His duty as the Heir to Storm's End and as the second prince meant he'd have to give up Kara sooner or later.

She knew too many of his secrets to just allow her to fall into the hands of someone like Varys or Littlefinger. The thought of someday having to tie up this loose end left a bitter taste in his mouth. He'd just have to find someway to keep her close. No point worrying over it now.

He slipped out of the comfort of the furs and reached for his bag. No point dallying anymore. He started on the task he had woken up early for.

Picking up a dagger, he pricked his thumb. Immediately, a thin stream of red blood started flowing out. He filled out a cup before tying a piece of linen to the wound.

Blood is a powerful magical conduit. Harry remembered that from his dreams. A few discussions with Maester Garrick told him that the first men used to sacrifice their enemies under the weirwood trees, letting their blood pour down on the roots. It seemed like the Northern practice of beheading people under weirwoods had an ulterior motive.

Harry was pretty sure the weirwood at Storm's End hadn't had a drink in atleast the last 3 centuries, since the time House Baratheon was established. Even before, it was unlikely as the Andals hated the barbaric ways of the North. If the weirwood was still powerful enough to let him use his magic, albeit stunted, he shuddered to think what he could do near a weirwood from a place like Winterfell.

Harry was still sore for losing the opportunity to travel to Winterfell with the royal family. Instead of inviting him on the trip, he received a letter from his father where he explained how he was planning to betroth Joffery to Ned Stark's daughter and how he believed that the animosity between the two brothers might cause an incident which would present Joffery in a negative light.

So while Joffery travelled halfway across the seven kingdoms, Harry was stuck with hosting Lord Rowan and fend off Mace Tyrell's invitations to Highgarden. Mathis Rowan spent the majority of his visit extolling on the beauty of the golden rose of the Reach in a poorly concealed attempt to have him betrothed to Margaery Tyrell. Having lost Joffery, the Tyrells seemed almost desperate to secure influence at court. Too bad they were barking up the wrong tree. They'd gain more influence through Tommen, despite the age difference.

With the blood prepared, Harry dipped his dagger in it before starting to etch Runes on the inside of his armour. Runes were the best magical tool he had access to right now. They were designed for wandless magic and didn't need active casting. He couldn't be very creative with them since his Runic knowledge was somewhat stunted. He cursed his past self for ignoring the subject when he was at that magical school, Castle Hogwarts.

"Is that blood ?" The scraping of his dagger against the platemail seemed to have woken up his companion.

"Uh Huh"

"Harry, you didn't sacrifice some virgin to perform this ritual, did you ?" Through the playful tone, he could detect a slight wariness in her words.

"What if I did, it's not like that puts you in any danger, does it ?" he joked back.

"True, my blood would be pretty much useless, but I'd rather not have to explain to the innkeeper what happened to his darling daughter. What are you drawing anyway ?"

"It's called magical Runes. It imparts certain properties to my armour for a certain time when I charge it with my magic. This top one is the ehwak rune. It grants strength and durability, the combination of tral rune inside Mohawk rune can make it featherlight for 5 minutes. This matrix here is a complex combination of Runes whose job is to capture an enemy's attention and distract them during a fight."

"That's it ? I thought you'd be spouting flames and blasting people just like the stories you told me. Compared to that, this seems like...parlour tricks." Kara seemed somewhat disappointed.

"Even a split second's advantage can mean the difference between life and death. I had to use this array on my practice mail to defeat Moore and earn my spurs. Besides, there are limits to what I can do with Runes. For real magic, I need a wand." Explaining magic to a muggle was pointless but he decided to indulge Kara anyway.

"A wand ? Like a piece of wood ? Should I fetch you some ? We are in the middle of a forest, you won't lack for wood." Kara questioned simply, making him facepalm.

"Just any wood won't do idiot. I am compatible with Holly. Besides, just wood isn't good for anything. I need a magical core. Dragon Heartstring, Tail hair of a Male Unicorn given freely, or a tail feather of a Phoenix are some of the common ones." Harry felt like he was speaking to an eleven year old who just received his Hogwarts letter.

"Well that's convenient. All dragons are dead, the only known unicorns seen were on the island of Skagosi cannibals far up north and what even is a Phoenix ?"

"An immortal fire bird that can heal any wound. Don't worry your pretty head too much over it Kara. Now let me concentrate because I need this armour prepared if I am to participate in the hand's tourney."

"Are you sure about that Harry ? You just became a knight. Tourneys are dangerous. Just look at what happened to lame Willas." Kara asked with concern coloring her voice.

"I need to do this Kara. I haven't even sent word of my arrival just so I could take them unaware. Even Mandon hasn't sent word of my knighthood to father yet. I need to prove myself to my father. He'll never respect me until I prove my worth through combat. I need to show my mother that Joffery will never be as good as me. Too long have I been sidelined. With this tourney, I will announce my entry in the game to the world." A low growl escaped his throat towards the end of his tirade.

"You don't need to prove anything to anyone Harry. They are blind if they can't see your worth. You should worry more about your life than how your parents see you. Atleast participate openly instead of this cloak and dagger stuff with being a mystery knight. Your status will mean no opponent tries anything underhanded against you. Being a mystery knight just adds to the already considerable risk !" Kara pleaded with him.

"No, the word will reach my mother and she'll put a stop to it. Mother won't stand for Joffery being shown up like this in front of Lords from half the realm. Besides, my magic will be sufficient to bridge the gulf between my skills and my opponents. My magic might seem like parlour tricks to you but I assure you it will be more than sufficient."

"But..."

"No more, I grow weary of this conversation. Go and rouse the men. We leave within an hour."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

This was it. The biggest day of her life was finally here. The hand's tourney had finally arrived and it brought the entire South's chivalry with it. Knights, Lords, retainers and bannermen from every part of the realm had descended on King's Landing to prove their valor and for a chance to record their names in the annals of history. Every inn, resthouse and brothel was filled to capacity and it felt like the city was about to burst at its seams. Septa Mordane had informed Sansa that the tourney held in her Lord Father's honour was the biggest Tourneys organized in the last decade. Only the tourney held after the subjugation of pyke could match this one in scale or grandeur.

Sansa styled her hair into one of the southern styles she had seen at the court. Looking into the mirror at her pale complexion and high cheekbone, she couldn't help but reminiscence about her life so far. Sansa felt like finally the gods were giving her what was her due. After years of being cooped up in the cold, frigid, Winterfell, Sansa, for the first time in her life, was totally free. King's Landing was a true symbol of opulence and grandeur. The markets had the finest silks, the merchants sold the sweetest fruits and the musicians played the loveliest songs. In comparison, Winterfell was nothing more than a squalid gloomy keep. Moreover, she got to attend a real tourney, meet fabled knights and most importantly, her golden Prince Joffery wasn't angry with her anymore. It seemed like the bitterness of what happened at the Trident was washed away with the flowing waters of Blackwater Rush. Only the absence of Lady reminded her of her loss. If only Arya hadn't been such a brat, today would've been perfect. Lady would never get to see a real city or a real tourney.

Sansa longed for a chance to go explore the city but her Lord father was always so busy. She couldn't go with her betrothed because Prince Joffery would never travel without his litter which would catch too much attention. She couldn't expect Prince Joffery to travel on foot with her. A crown prince does not lower himself to the level of those he means to rule one day, or so the queen had told her. Well she was being greedy now. She had almost everything she ever wished for. Her father's work was bound to get easier once he settled down into his new position. For now, she'd concentrate on enjoying what she had.

The opening of her door broke Sansa from her musings. Her best friend, Jeyne Poole stepped through. Jeyne had styled her hair in a style similar to hers, but her dress plunged much lower beneath the neck than hers. The only way to describe her dress would be risque. Out of the two of them, Jeyne was always the more reckless one. Jeyne was beautiful, no doubt about it, but next to Sansa, she always came up short. As such, she felt the need to make up for her inadequacies through other means. Well, she couldn't fault Jeyne for that. Atleast her method of covering up her inadequacies was better than Arya's, who would rather enhance her unlady-like behaviour than make amends for her short comings Sansa didn't have the luxury of Arya's stubborn stupidity or Jeyne's freedom. She had a responsibility to always behave in a manner befitting her station. She was the hand's eldest daughter and the future queen of the seven kingdoms. She couldn't have people thinking that she wasn't suitable to be their queen. But sometimes, in the privacy of her mind, Sansa felt a little jealous of Jeyne and Arya. Jeyne more than Arya, she didn't want to be a brat like her sister and run around rolling in the mud.

"You look lovely Sansa, all the knights will be clamouring for your favor." Jeyne greeted Sansa with a bright smile.

"Thank you Jeyne, you look lovely too and might I say all the eyes in the tourney will be at your dress today. I wonder how the knights will fare in their jousts when their eyes keep failing them to ogle your way." Sansa replied back playfully.

"Do you like it ? I heard the Dornish always wear dresses like these. It helps keep you cool no matter how harsh the sun is. After Winterfell, every day in the King's Landing feels like the inside of a smith's forge."  
"Yes, the weather of King's Landing agrees with me much more. I'd rather sweat in the sun than shiver in summer snows." The best part about King's Landing had to be no snows. Sansa- was sick of the perpetual snows of the North and the sight of end to end plain fields was a shock in itself.  
"Forget the weather, tell me how Prince Joffery asked for your favor for the joust today." Jeyne asked with a dreamy look in her eyes.  
"Prince Joffery didn't ask for my favor because he isn't going to joust today. Today's joust is meant for senior knights and Prince Joffery hasn't been knighted for even a year yet. Although, he did invite me to watch the tourney with him in the royal box" Though she didn't show it, Sansa was a little saddened. She expected Prince Joffery to take part in the tourney and win the crown of love and beauty for her, his lady love. All fabled knights in her stories did that. Perhaps some other tourney, it wasn't like this was going to be the last one.  
"Ohh well, don't worry. I'm sure whoever wins it is going to crown you anyways. You are going to be the most gorgeous lady out there. Also, you know, when I was coming over to you, a lord asked me for my favor. An actual Lord !!!" Jeyne couldn't keep out the incredulity and excitement in her voice. So this was the reason Jeyne steered the conversation in this direction. Sansa was happy for her friend, though the worm of jealousy was tickling her yet again at the back of her mind.   
"Ohh I am so happy for you Jeyne. Who was it ? Lord Peasburry? Lord Combination ? Please don't say it was Lord Reply, the King's brother ?"  
"None of those Sansa, it was Lord Berric Dondarrion. He stopped me to ask for directions to the smithy and then just asked me for my favor to protect him in the jousts. He looks so handsome Sansa, ohh you have to see him." Jeyne looked like she was going to swoon.  
"Yes, let's pray to the warrior to grant him strength to win the tourney. We should leave now or you'll miss out on watching your Lord unhorse his opponents in his quest to crown you."  
The two of them walked out of the room towards the tourney grounds, discussing various knights and Lords, or in Jeyne's case, discussing Lord Berric Dondarrion.

Street

"Can't we move a little faster Kara ? Perhaps I could ride there ahead of you and you can come along with the guards" a nervous voice asked from under a greathelm with antlers on top.  
"Just shut up and keep walking, Littlefinger's brothel is just right up the corner." Kara whispered back furiously.  
"Easy for you to say. You aren't the one squeezed inside a magical armour. I could die if the enchantments fail. it would be a shit way to die too. I'd rather die on a battlefield to an enemy's hammer than this mumbo-jumbo." Edric retorted with a little steam.  
"Quit whining. Harry said you should be fine for another hour or so. You wouldn't need it on the way back. Yes, there it is. And for mother's sake, walk a little straighter. Harry doesn't droop his shoulders like that. This entire ruse will be useless if you keep behaving like a scared little squire. Ohh, there's the establishment's Madame, remember what Harry told you. And talk to her with some authority. Remember she's a commonfolk, you are royalty." Kara whispered furiously back at Edric the squire.  
"Welcome to our humble aboard my Prince, we weren't expecting you here. We thought you'd be watching the tourney along with your royal family." The silky voice of the Madame had a lilt to it, like she had been a singer in her earlier days.  
"Yes, well, I and my men were tired from our journey so I decided to peruse your magnificent establishment." Kara was surprised to hear Edric, his voice carried authority and confidence. Perhaps the royal blood in his veins wasn't so diluted after all.  
"Of course, your grace. We'd be honoured to have you and your men. You are welcome to choose whichever girl is to your liking" the Madame clapped her hands and a couple dozen girls lined up in front of Edric. Their dresses, if you could call those scraps dresses, were the most outrageously cut, offering glimpses and promises of the treasures hidden underneath. These were the most expensive whores of Kings Landing and it was easy to see why. Even Kara was tempted to haul one of the pretty redheads into a room and learn a few new tricks, for Harry of course. Not hearing Edric wave the girls away, she turned towards him. Edric seemed to have forgotten his role, as he was actively sizing up each of the girls. Nudging him in the side, Kara broke whatever fantasy he was lost in.   
Edric took a moment to clear his throat before replying" I thank you for the offer but there will be no need of these beautiful ladies. I have a lady with me today, but I'd appreciate if you didn't spread the tale. If anyone asks, just tell them I spent the day with one of your girls. Also, we'll be using uncle Tyrion's favourite room today." The reason they were using that room was because Tyrion had told Harry the story of that room. It was commissioned by one of the previous hands who would come over at night through a secret corridor. As such, that room was perhaps the only one with no spyholes for the brothel owner to spy on them.   
The Madame looked a bit startled. " I am afraid that room isn't available at the moment but might I interest you with our cashmere room. It has silks brought especially from Lys and the design is based on Pentos."  
The Madame's ploy was quite obvious. She meant to spy on them. Well Kara couldn't let that happen. "Didn't you hear the prince ? Unless you have the king himself perusing that room, I suggest you throw the person out NOW."  
The Madame looked Kara's way with rage and disgust. She looked like she wanted to say something but Edric putting an arm around her waist deflated her. A nobody like her wasn't going to risk Prince Harry's wrath by insulting his mistress in front of him. Kara knew she had won their little game if the triumphant smile on her face was any indication.  
"Of course your grace, if you'd step this way. "  
Kara and Edric followed her towards the room but not before allowing the men to enjoy themselves. Ser Mandon insisted on guarding their door as was his duty and followed them. Harry suspected Mandon to be a Baelish spy. As such, even the men didn't know that Harry and Edric had switched places. They walked out of the inn with Harry wearing Eric's armour and carrying his tourney armour on Eric's horse while Edric rode on Harry's horse in his armour. The special rune things that Harry had carved on his armor made it magically possible for the physically bigger Edric to shrink and fit inside Harry's armour while the helm changed his voice enough to sound like Harry's if he had a sore throat.  
Only Ser Garret and Ser Hughes, who would accompany Harry to the tourney knew about the switch and Harry trusted them. They were his men through and through. It had taken a couple of years but Harry had managed to root out all the Renly loyalists from Storm's End. He would invite them individually for a chat and somehow magically know if their loyalties lay elsewhere. Of course there were still spies. Harry couldn't possibly keep tabs on every single stableboy and scullery maid, but atleast the knights and the men in important positions were all loyal to him.   
They finally reached their destination and the Madame bowed and left. Leaving Ser Mandon outside to guard and possibly attempt to overhear, the two of them moved into the room. The moment the door closed, Edric started attacking his armor like a man possessed. Within no time at all, he managed to remove all of it, growing back to his original impressive bulk and height.  
"Easy there boy. That was a play for them. You are not getting your hands on me." Kara teased.  
"Laugh all you want. We'll see how you react when Harry uses his magic on you"  
"It wouldn't matter because Harry would make sure that I was safe. he'd never put my life in peril." Kara replied with supreme confidence.  
"Umm Kara, how are you so comfortable with all of this. Men aren't supposed to do things like Harry does. How did he get this power ? Where did he get it from ? Did the seven bless him or has he forsaken them for some eastern heathen ? And what if this power corrupts him ? " Edric asked with more than a little doubt coloring his voice.  
"Don't you dare !!! Don't you dare doubt Harry. Do you forget who he is ? Not only is he your knight, he is also the man who keeps you fed and gives you a roof to sleep under. Without him, you'd be tilling some field or smithing horseshoes for knights, not squiring, bastard" Kara made sure to emphasize on the bastard, with fury emanating from her voice and all signs of levity gone.  
"I.. I didn't mean that. I am grateful to him, I am. But.." Edric tried to backtrack but Kara spoke over him.  
"No buts, remember his graciousness and count yourself lucky. You aren't the only King's bastard you know. There are others too, but do you see them anywhere ? Everything you are, everything you'll ever be, is because Harry cares for you. Never forget that. And regarding his magic, it is something Harry was born with. I don't pretend to understand it, but Harry does. Harry says it is safe and that is more than sufficient for me, it should be for you too. You have known about this for sometime now, have you seen him hurt anyone with it, anyone who didn't deserve ?"  
"Well no..."  
Kara once again cut into him, " There you have it. Now, let's get on to the task we are here for. Mandon must be trying to hear really hard, let's give him something to keep him occupied."  
A lecherous grin overtook Eric's face as he stuffed whatever doubts he had to the back of his mind,"Would you need some help?"  
Kara laughed at his clumsy seduction. "Just sit back and enjoy the show. I'll manage."  
The speed at which edric's face fell made her pity him a bit, but not nearly enough to allow his hands anywhere near her. He'd be getting a chance to watch which was more than what he deserved after doubting Harry. Falling back onto the featherbed, one of Kara's hands disappeared under her skirts while the other moved to her bosom. Moans of pleasure reverberated through the room and no one outside was left in any doubt regarding the activities taking place inside.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Sansa rode to the tourney grounds in a litter with Jeyne's Poole and Septa Mordane. Arya was inexplicably absent, having her dancing lessons. The litter had curtains of red silk that turned the whole world crimson. Beyond the city walls, she spotted a hundred tents with sigils from all over the seven kingdoms. There was the Manderly Mermaid, the hooded man of Banefort, the red chevronels of Rosby, the black warhammers of Rykker, the silver arrows of Hunter. The Dornish houses were few and far between but she was told that had been the trend since the rebellion. 

The common folk came in thousands to watch the the games. The splendor of it all took Sandra's breath away. The shining armour, the charges draped in silver and gold, the banners whipping about in the wind, the shouting people, the knights themselves..., most of all the knights.

"It's better than the songs" she whispered to Jeyne, who just nodded along, her eyes fixed on the purple lightning of House Dondarrion.

They took the seats saved for them among the lords and the ladies who were important guests of the royal family. Sansa could feel many an eye on her. After all, she did look good. She was dressed in a blue velvet dress that brought out the colour of her eyes.  
"You must be our Lord Hand's daughter. You look just like your mother" Sansa's attention was suddenly caught by a man who she did not recognise. He wore a heavy lined with fur and held together by a mockingbird brooch. His hair had silver streaks going through it and his face was pointed with a pointy beard. He took one auburn lock in his hand and caressed her cheek. She did not recognise him but for the sake of courtesy replied demurely," I am Sansa Stark"

Septa Mordane spoke up from beside her,"Sweet child, this is Lord Petyr Baelish, he is on the king's small council."

Lord Baelish bowed at that and took a seat she had been saving for Prince Joffrey "Your mother and I were friends. We both grew up together at Riverrun. She was once my queen of love and beauty."

"She speaks often about you my lord, she remembers you fondly" Sansa replied. Her mother had never spoken about him, but she remembered her manners. 

"I am sure she does, as do I. So how do you like the tourney today. We have an impressive list of knights competing. Six of the seven Kingsguard, the Clegane brothers, and quite a few lords and heirs from all over the realm."

"It is very pleasant my lord." Sansa felt uncomfortable near the man but he refused to leave. She couldn't think of anything to make him leave, he was a high lord and on the king's small council no less. She couldn't be discourteous to someone like that. So she settled to watch the tourney hoping her Prince would come soon and take his rightful place beside her. To her dismay, when prince Joffrey arrived, he took his place besides his mother Queen Cersei, leaving her to bear the company of Lord Petyr Baelish.

It wasn't really that bad. The man had a smooth way of talking and always had a smirk gracing his lips, like he knew some internal joke that none of the others were privy to. He knew a lot, and told Sansa about all the men jousting in the rings.

The jousts were a delight to watch as well. She watched Ser Jaime Lannister throw down the marcher Lord Bryce Caron. Ser Barristan won his round against See Andar Royce who was twenty years younger than the elderly commander of the Kingsguard. Jory made winterfell proud by unhorsing Ser Horas Redwyne but Alyn lost to Sr Meryn Trant and Harwin to Ser Balon Swann. The Hound and his brother were ruthless, unhorsing their opponents with such force that they were sent flying. 

Ser Loras Tyrell of Highgarden was perhaps the most beautiful knight she had ever seen. His armour had gilded golden roses and sapphires enamelled on it. His cape was made of the most beautiful blooms. He unhorsed his opponent, a Ser Hosteen Frey with such grace and ease, it looked like he was going through the motions of a southern dance. After the joust, he came over to Sansa and gave her a red rose, proclaiming her beauty for all the Lords and the ladies to hear. If she didn't have every eye in the stands on her before, she did now. She was blushing long after See Loras left.  
"Ahh, what do we have here, a mystery knight. Those always spice things up. I wonder who that is." Lord Baelish suddenly caught her attention, breaking her out of her musings about the beauty of Ser Loras and what it would feel like to run her hands through those wavy brunette locks on his head.

She looked down to the grounds and sure enough, a knight dressed in armour black as the night had come up. There were red streaks running through his armour, like the leaping embers of a fire. He had a shield with a weird burning crimson bird painted on it. On second thought, those red streaks looked more like the burning feathers of a bird, snaking around his torso. 

The knight wasn't particularly tall. He also had a somewhat slight built to him. Nevertheless, there was an aura about him which compelled you to look his way. It was perhaps in the way he held himself, or the self assured way he sat his horse, Sansa couldn't put her finger to the reason. His helm was more menacing than the hound's snarling one. It had two wicked horns the length of short daggers protruding from either side. The horns were twisted around the middle. Near the head, each horn had an additional horn jutting straight up. There was a single long slit down the middle for air. The helm gave him the appearance of a demon come straight from one of the seven hells. Even Old Nan's tales never spoke of a monster so intimidating.

Murmurs of a Targaryen Prince back from exile started spreading about. Every single person in the audience was interested to know the identity of this mystery knight.  
"Who is he ? Do we know where he is from ?" Jeyne spoke up, giving voice to the question that was plaguing all of their minds.

"I am afraid I do not know. I guess we will have to wait for him to be unhorsed to learn how identity. With Lord Jason Mallister as his opponent, I feel it won't be too long." Lord Baelish then went on to tell them about how Lord Mallister had singlehandedly cut down three of Rhaegar Targaryen's bannermen at the trident and slewn Lord Balon Greyjoy's eldest son during the Greyjoy rebellion. 

A mystery knight vs a famed Lord. Sansa couldn't have asked for a more fitting battle in her first tourney. One way or another, people would be talking about this tourney for a long time.

************HARRY POV*************

This was it. The moment of truth was finally here. He was sitting atop his courser, at one end of the lists, with a Lance in one hand and a shield in another, waiting for the signal to charge. His armour had done a good enough job of catching everyone's attention. The decision to use a Phoenix as his sigil was an impulsive one. Phoenix was the beast he felt the closest to in his previous life. A Phoenix had saved his life when the situation had seemed beyond unwinnable. He wanted a Phoenix near him to give him strength today as well.   
Thousands upon thousands of people were looking at him. His father, his mother was looking at him. He couldn't shame himself by losing the first joust itself. He had hoped for an easier opponent, some hedge knight or a newly knighted squire like him, but he guessed the man pulling the draws wanted to make it entertaining for the people by pitting him against Jason Mallister. The man had been jousting for nearly 3 decades. There was no trick in the book the man didn't know about. 

But all of that didn't matter. Because Harry was going to win today. He was going to win and show his parents his worth. He would show them that while Joffrey sat scared holding onto his mother's skirts, he was fighting against men with experience twice his age.

The signal finally came. With a swift kick, his horse Nimbus sprinted forth. The sounds of the crowd dimmed. All he could hear was the thundering of the horse's feet. All he could see was Jason Mallister's exposed shoulder over his shield. So that was where he pointed his Lance. The two met in a furious crash of splintering lances. Harry barely managed to stay atop his horse. Jason's Lance had somehow sneaked past his shield and scored a hit on his left shoulder. He could feel a bruise colouring his left shoulder. His lance had failed to score a hit, splintering on Mallister's shield.

Harry realized he was out of his depth in this joust. Screw it, he wasn't going to play fair anymore. There was no way he was going to get out of this tilt with his pride and muscles intact if he continued like this. He had to use his ace, his magic. He was hoping to use it a little later in advanced rounds but a draw against Mallister had forced his hand. It wasn't like he was going to cheat for the first time. After all, he got his spurs in the first place by duping Mandon Moore.   
Jason Mallister turned around the corner and came charging at him once more, intending to knock him off and finish the match. Harry shifted his shield to his right hand and the lance to his left. To the spectators, it might appear to be a desperate but foolish tactic. After all, the first lesson of jousting was to always strike with your dominant hand. Or more like the second lesson. The first one was to always stay on your horse.

This seemingly strange tactic was necessary for what Harry was up to. Being right handed, he was more adept at casting with his right hand, even at wandless magic. Holding his shield up to defend his body, Harry activated one of the runes on the inside of his shield with his magic. The rune was an attraction matrix. It applied a subtle compulsion on people, attracting their attention towards it and away from the real danger. This time when the two combatants closed in, Jason Mallister's lance struck the shield right in the centre, the strongest part, and splintered harmlessly. With his attention grabbed by the strange burning bird, Jason Mallister failed to cover his flank, receiving a hit so solid, he was sent flying out of his seat into the dirt.   
The Lord of Seagard appeared confused and dazed as Harry savoured in the sweet taste of his victory at the tourney, the first of many more to come. The Phoenix had risen and none could stand before it.

*********Sansa POV***********

The crowd gaped in shock to see Lord Mallister fly out of his seat atop the horse. The first tilt had gone just as everyone seemed to have expected. The mystery knight charged down at Lord Jason, who shifted deftly in his seat at the last moment to catch the opponent's lance on his shield while sneaking his own just over the opponent's shield. It was a maneuver worth of praise. She doubted the mystery knight even realized when Lord Jason had shifted. She herself hadn't , but Lord Baelish had helpfully enlightened her. 

Somehow the mystery knight managed to retain his seat in the saddle. She had to applaud his resolve, that blow seemed to have hurt a lot. Lord Petyr gave the mystery knight one final tilt before he bit the dust. Yet something changed. The mystery knight switched his shield and lance, earning scoffs from the more experienced section of the viewers. He came charging once again, but this time, Lord Jason inexplicably missed, hitting the shield right in the centre on perhaps the painted burning bird's eye. The mystery knight struck hard and true, unhorsing Lord allister and earning his first victory of the day. 

The crowd seemed to be shocked into silence. Then, as one, the spell was broken and the commonfolk broke into frenzied euphoria. The grounds started ringing with applause and praise for the mystery knight. The highborn Lords and ladies broke into furious whispers, like a hornet's nest disturbed by an errant gust. 

"What do you know, he won after all. This tourney is going to be more interesting than it seemed this morning" Lord Baelish quipped with that self assured smirk of his.

"I am afraid I do not catch your meaning my Lord," Sansa replied. Sure, the mystery knight's win was surprising, but such upsets were a regular affair at a tourney, or so she had read in many a books.  
"Look at the King sweet girl. What do you see ?" Lord Baelish asked.

Sansa turned towards the king, who seemed to be speaking to Ser Barristan. She didn't seem to find anything out of the ordinary .

"Look closely my dear, what do you really see ?" Lord Baelish asked again, seemingly reading her thoughts.  
Sansa didn't want to disappoint. If she failed such a simple test as observation, surely the word would spread around that she was incompetent and an airhead.

"The king is talking to Lord Barristan. He seems agitated, almost furious."

"And what could have possibly angered the king ?"

"I... I do not see what it could have been."

"Look at the mystery knight, Sansa. Which house has a sigil with a beast related to fire ? Which house has the colours black and red ? Which is the house the king is known to hate with a passion ?"

"House Targaryen" Sansa murmured, remembering her lessons on the rebellion. "But.. But it couldn't possibly be.. "

"Couldn't it ? Tourney is an excellent place to recruit houses sympathetic to your cause. The armour is obviously expensive so this is no hedge knight out to make a name for himself. The difference in sigil doesn't matter. The knight couldn't have possibly come in prancing with a three headed dragon. No, he needed deniability but at the same time, he needed to send out a clear message. What is important is the symbolism and this knight displays that in droves."

"So what will happen now ? Will they arrest him ? But he hasn't committed any crime ?" Sansa protested.

"Ohh no, my dear. But they can't let him leave unchallenged either. He could rouse all the hidden Targaryen sympathizers, and the realm could once again witness a war. All I can say is that this tourney is about to get a whole lot difficult for our mystery knight" Lord Baelish replied, once again smirking as if reminiscing a joke he alone knew.

"Thank you, Lord Baelish for helping me understand. I couldn't have possibly thought of all the hidden meanings and symbolism underneath the facade presented."

A strange glint came in Lord Baelish's eyes. He raised his hand to once again push a curl of auburn hair behind her ears. He leaned in to whisper into her ears,"You can always count on me Sansa. King's Landing is a place rife with intrigue and plots. Every man and every women here is working towards their interests and they are all so much more experienced than you. But I can help you navigate all the swamps of politics. After all, I was a very close friend of your mother. I feel obligated to help her daughter for the love I still bear her. Besides, as our future queen, you will need people at your side, watching out for your interests. Intrigue is the name of the game Sansa and you need to stay two steps ahead." Sansa could smell mint and cinnamon as his breath ghosted against her cheek.

Hearing the word queen sent Sansa's heart aflutter. She could see that she had judged Lord Baelish perhaps a little too harshly. The man was a friend of mother's and was looking out for her. Besides, he was in the King's small council. That was no small position. Sansa was thankful such an important and powerful person was looking out for her. Bowing her head slightly and batting her eyelashes, Sansa said" I am truly grateful for your assistance my Lord. I can see that my mother had a true friend in you and I wish we could be just as good friends."

"Ohh, I intend to make our relationship just as.... strong and deep as the one I had with your mother, Sansa." Once again, that smirk. She couldn't think what was there to smirk about now.

Lord Baelish seemed to straighten up suddenly and spoke,"I'm afraid I must take my leave now, Lady Sansa. It seems your father is here and my job of keeping you company is unnecessary now. I would appreciate you not spreading word of our little arrangement. The best weapon you could have in the game of politics is the one no one knows about."

Sansa understood the implication of Lord Baelish's words and nodded her head in acquiescence. Lord Baelish took his leave and his seat was soon occupied by father. Sansa could see creases on his forehead and bags underneath his eyes. Her father was overworked, anyone could see that. It seemed like he had aged almost 10 years in the month they bad spent at King's Landing. Perhaps the city didn't agree with everyone after all. 

"I see that you have met Lord Baelish. Might I enquire what you were talking about?" Her father spoke in that rich baritone of his.

Sansa wanted to tell him all about lost Targaryens and hidden plots but Lord Baelish's warning echoed in her mind. "Lord Baelish was chaperoning us while we waited for you father. He didn't think maidens like us should sit alone without an escort with how people tend to get uncouth after a drink too many at tourneys. He told us about all the knights that are fighting today. Did you know father, Thoros of Myr, the bald red priest, was the first an through the breach at pyke during the greyhound rebellion?"

"Yes Sansa, I was there, remember? And Lord Baelish has my thanks for looking after you."

Sansa bowed her head, relieved that she had managed to avert her father's questions. She realized that it was the first time she had lied to her parents in such an overt manner. Lying didn't feel so unlady-like after all.


	6. Chapter 6- Might vs Magic

Chapter 6  
The rest of the matches continued in the same vein. Jory of Winterfell lost to Ser Balon Swann, who lost to Sandor Clegane. Robar Royce and Hosteen Frey both fell to Loras Tyrell. Gregor Clegane continued to stomp his way through his opponents, sending uncle Renly to the ground and a newly anointed vale knight Ser Hugh to his death. That one was particularly gruesome. The end of Clegane's lance somehow found it's way inside the loosely tied gorget of Ser Hughes. The knight lay clutching at the gaping hole in his throat in a pool of his own lifeblood. The people just roared out in approval, sating their bloodlust with the unnecessary death. Such were the risks of a tourney. If you never took a risk, you'd never gain anything. Harry just tightened his own gorget and trotted off on Nimbus to the lists. 

So far, Harry's poor luck with the draws had continued. After Jason Mallister, he drew Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Barristan Selmy in succession. Trant was easy, Harry hardly needed to use any magic to unhorse him, surprising even himself with his skill. He couldn't say for sure if it was his skill or Trant's incompetence that saw him through. 

Ser Barristan was another matter. After the first pass, Harry figured out that the old knight's concentration was just as legendary as his name. The distraction Runic magic wasn't effective against him. So, Harry activated the second Runic cluster, temporarily reinforcing his strength to equal that of the mountain. He used a sticking rune on the inside of his thighs to get some leverage. This time when the two came to pass, Harry used his reinforced strength to break through Ser Barristan's loosely held shield and knock him off. However, the old knight didn't go down without giving him a reward. Ser Barristan struck true as well, almost knocking him off too. It was only the sticking charm that allowed Harry to hang on to his horse in an awkward position where his legs stayed put but his back became parallel to the saddle. 

Now Harry was getting ready for his bout against Ser Jaime Lannister. A third Kingsguard in a row, his uncle no less. His poor run with the draws stopped seeming like bad luck anymore. Atleast his father had finally run out of Kingsguard to throw at him. Preston Greenfield had lost to Jaremy Rykker and Aerys Oakheart was participating in the archery. Only dear Uncle Jaime stood between him and the top four position in the jousts.

Growing up, uncle Jaime had always been the uncle he hated the most. Stannis was always cold and stoic. Tyrion was either drunk or mocking. Renly was genial but their relationship frosted once his father decided to name him Lord of Storm's End. 

Jaime though, had always had a mean streak when it came to him. His mother would always use the man whenever she felt Harry needed disciplining. He would beat Harry with the flat end of his blade. Attempts to shield himself behind his arms would only be met with a derisive laugh and more force. He would continue to punish Harry until he passed out or someone else interrupted. Most of the times, it was the former rather than the latter.

Harry could always pick up emotions of hurt, betrayal and anger whenever he was in the presence of his uncle. It was like the man resented him for being born. He felt none of those emotions from the man towards any of his siblings. He didn't know what he had done to cause such hurt but it didn't matter anymore. The days when he was a scared little boy who would curl up and take all the punishment from this man were done. Today, he was going to be the one to put Jaime on the ground. 

***Sansa's POV***

The tourney continued with knights continuing to fight in order to outdo each other. However, Sansa had lost all interest in the matches. Her attention was focused on the supposed Targaryen returned from the dead. He was the type of knight singers sang about. 

The mystery knight continued his winning trot, unseating Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Barristan Selmy. That last joust was a close affair, the mystery knight just somehow managing to hang on to his seat, defying all expectations. 

With every bout the mystery knight won against the kingsguard the king's mood took a darker turn. Her father left to converse with the king after Ser Barristan's back met the ground. She assumed it was to placate the king. From the looks of it, the king looked ready to grab his warhammer and reenact the battle of the ruby ford right here in the tourney grounds. Sansa didn't want to see the mystery knight's chest bashed in. Ser Hugh's death was already one death too many for this tourney. So she hoped her father succeeded in his venture. 

"Stag for your thoughts? " a melodious voice spoke from besides her. 

Sansa turned around in surprise, only to find that Princess Myrcella had taken the empty seat beside her. The princess was her age, with hair of spun gold and eyes like the most precious emeralds mined from casterly rock. Her gown was red with a golden stag embroidered on her front. Princess Myrcella was a picture of beauty. People said the princess's beauty surpassed her mother's when she was a maiden her age. Next to her, Sansa felt like an ugly rustic fool. 

Princess Myrcella hadn't interacted much with her when she visited winterfell. Apart from the hours spent sewing, the princess spent most of her time alone. She was quite good at sewing, if the doublet she made for Prince Tommen was any proof. According to Jeyne, the princess had made another doublet for her other brother, the one who didn't visit winterfell. Why she didn't make anything for Prince Joffery she couldn't say. 

"Are you enjoying the tourney Sansa? " the princess asked, breaking her from her thoughts.   
" yes, princess myrcella. It is just as i had dreamed. " she replied, her voice slightly breathless.   
" ohh please call me myrcella, we are going to be family after all. " though the princess's tone was genial, she thought she could sense something else in her voice. It was like she pitied Sansa.   
" The tourney is nice isn't it? Its not everyday we have missing Targaryen princes making an appearance at one. If you believe the rumours, that is", the princess said with a mocking tone.   
"Do you not believe it then? " sansa prodded, wanting to know what Princess Myrcella had in mind.   
" ofcourse not. Don't be foolish sansa, why this is the last place a Targaryen will come alone. There's no way he can get away with his life if he is moronic enough to take the risk. Life isn't a song Sansa. Only in songs can a prince gallop over the wall and run away with the princess. Here, he will be feathered with a hundred fletchings before he says so much as 'Fire and Blood' "  
I guess that makes sense, but why is everyone so tense then?"   
"because whoever it is, is mocking the king. Personally, i think it is someone making a jape. I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out Uncle Tyrion paid some hedge knight to cause a spectacle. Besides, would you look at that sigil. It looks like something out of one of my brother's fantastic tales. "  
" ohh, does prince Joffery often tell you tales like that? " sansa asked with stars in her eyes. She wanted to know everything there was to know about Prince Joffery.   
" what? No. I was talking about Harry. "the princess's voice immediately took on a sad tone.   
" if you don't mind me asking, where is prince Harry? He didn't travel to winterfell either. "sansa questioned about the elusive baratheon prince. Her father had hoped to match Arya with the prince but his absence and events on the kingsroad had caused him to wait for a chance to take stock of the second prince before fixing a betrothal.   
" Harry was busy managing Storm's End. As for today, if you are to believe Varys, Harry is in the city visiting one of the brothels. Father might find that funny, but mother wont be pleased with it. Harry knows better, i don't know what he was thinking... " a concerned Princess Myrcella threw some light on the second prince. So he was more like his oafish father, preferring to wench rather than witness a glorious tourney and hold court. Well, it wasn't an easy task for everyone to match up to her Prince Joffery so she shouldn't judge Prince Harry too harshly.   
"It is sad that the prince missed such an interesting tourney. Why, I am sure he could've improved on his jousting skills by viewing the techniques of the best in the realm. " sansa said.  
This time, she heard a scoff from the princess. "These knights are lucky Harry is still a squire, else they would all end up on their backs. Harry is gifted on a horse. It is as if riding is in his blood." Sansa could hear the adoration in the voice of princess for her brother. She had never heard the princess address Prince Joffrey with such love. It was clear that the princess was much closer to her second brother.   
"I would love to see a joust between the two princes, it would be one for the songs, wouldn't it? " sansa asked.   
" Trust me, there wouldn't be much competition. The two of them have established that often enough. Besides, you will never get Joffery to agree to such a match. He will stick to what he is good at, whatever few things they are "Princess Myrcella scoffed with derision. 

So the princess favored Prince Harry over Prince Joffrey. Was this one of the many games afoot at the red keep that Lord Baelish had spoken of. It seemed like the two princes were on the opposite sides. Why it was so, she couldn't imagine. Her brothers all loved one another, even the bastard John Snow was loved by all of them. Then why were two blood brothers against each other. The more she thought about it, the more it became clear to her that she definitely needed someone like Lord Baelish on her side to help her navigate the treacherous relationships of King's Landing. 

"Look, the match is about to start. It's Uncle Jaime vs the mystery knight. Let's see if the knight can wipe that smile off Uncle Jaime's face" it seemed like the princess might be rooting for the mystery knight rather than her uncle. The royal family really was quite strange. 

***Harry's POV***

Harry knew there was no way he was beating Jaime Lannister with the tricks he had employed so far Luckily, he had come prepared. He just needed a minute alone with Uncle Jaime's horse. Unfortunately, every swordsman and every stable hand was watching him like a hawk. He was like a beacon towards whom every eye was attracted. 

He could tell that more than one person desired to get into a fight with him. The reasons were unclear but he sensed a lot of hatred towards his sigil. He couldn't understand the reason for such hatred towards something that doesn't even exist in thus world. Perhaps there were some tales relating pheonix to magic. Magic was pretty much hated in the south. It didn't make much sense but that was the best explanation he could come up with. In any case, Ser Garret and Ser Willem were nearby, to step in for such an eventuality. 

Harry decided he could use the brewing hatred. Walking up to the stablehand looking after Jaime's horse, he demanded in a hollow voice, "Are you going to marry that horse boy? Enough with the brushing, go feed some hay to my horse." 

"I.. I am to look after Ser Jaime's mount. I was told so, ser. I was told " the stableboy squeaked in a terrified voice. 

Harry grabbed him by the neck and his enhanced strength allowed him to lift him clear off ground"You will be a dead stableboy if my horse goes hungry another minute" 

"Let the boy go, he is not to serve the likes of you" a voice spoke from behind him. Harry turned around to see some Vale Knight stepping up to him. Behind him, he could see a lot more hands came to rest on their sword pommels, the threat communicated clearly. 

"Who do I have to kill to get some hay for my horse? Though it would be a shame, for Vale to lose a second coward at this tourney. " Harry instigated. 

The rebuke was enough to catch the knight's ire. With a roar, he pulled out his sword and charged at Harry. Harry didn't even bother unsheathing his sword. Just when the sword started descending in a deathly arc, Ser Garret was there meeting the challenge head on. He parried the strike away and in an instance his sword was at the knight's throat. Harry had chosen his bodyguards carefully. They were both skilled enough to be among the best in the realm. A little boosting with runes under their armour gave them the extra edge they needed to be the best in the realm. Ser Garret was agile, precise and sharp. Ser Willem was built like a troll, with strength that could rival the mountain. Together, the duo was more than enough to ensure that Harry would never have to wield a sword in self protection. 

"Sheath your sword this instance Ser. We are knights, bound by a code of honour and there is no honour in sabotaging a knight right before his joust. " Ser Garret spoke in a cool voice. 

" No way, I am not letting scum like that get away. He will pay for what his ancestors have done" the knight spoke in a crazed voice. More and more people were now joining behind the Vale Knight with bare swords. Ser Garret and Ser Willem took a defensive stance covering up Harry from every eye. 

Maybe riling up a group of people who's livelihood depended on killing and were already at the edge of their nerves wasn't his best idea. But now Harry had unrestricted access to Jaime's horse with no eyes on the horse or him. Quickly utilizing the opportunity, he fired a fear charm at the horse, tying it to hus pheonix sigil. He added a short sighted charm so that the horse wouldn't see the sigil until he got in close. He needed to hit with his lance after all. 

By now, the crowd had grown to a dangerous proportion. None of the guards were stepping in, content to see a full scale brawl break out. No matter how much he had buffed up Ser Garret and Ser Willem, they couldn't hold off 50 knights at once. Just when Harry was preparing a soothing charm to calm the frothing crowd, a voice from his past spoke up. 

"I step out for one moment to take a piss and a riot breaks out. The melee is tomorrow good people, rein in your aggression till then. Now, will someone explain to me what's going on? " Jaime Lannister sauntered in, speaking in his suave voice and as if magically, the tension in the crowd broke. 

" He was threatening your stableboy Ser" one knight spoke out.   
"Your horse has been groomed enough. Any more and they might have to put a dress over it. However, my horse is going hungry right before the joust, so this stableboy is feeding my horse now! . " Harry replied in his magically hollow voice.   
Jaime Lannister broke out in a bark of laughter as if he had cracked the best joke in the world.   
" By all means, go feed the man's horse, Mullen, was it? "   
" Aye , milord. " the stableboy replied.   
" Yes, yes. Feed his horse. We wouldn't want him to use it as an excuse when I send him sprawling on his back"

A few people laughed at Jaime's jape, agreeing with him. Others noticed that the tense moment had passed and returned back to whatever they were doing. The Vale Knight was the last to leave, but not before giving him a death stare. Harry was amused thinking how these same people will grovel at his feet once they realize who he was. 

"You shouldn't rile up the crowd in such a way, you are not well liked as it is. " Jaime Lannister said to him once everyone had left.   
" I noticed, and I could've handled it. " Harry replied back gruffly.   
" You mean before or after getting these two knights killed? Knights that are in service to my nephew. Tell me Ser Garret, where is Harry on this fine day. I expected to see him in the royal stand. "  
" Lord Harry had some business in the city, ser. He knew of my desire to participate in the joust and allowed us to leave. "  
" You mean whoring? What happened to the whore he kept around, did he grow bored of her? "

Harry felt his anger spike upon hearing Jaime speak of Kara in such a way. Fearing that he would give away the ruse if he stayed any longer, he pushed past Jaime saying he had no time to discuss whores and princes with him. Jaime just looked on with an amused expression before resuming his questioning with his bodyguards. 

***Sansa's POV***

The two destrier charged towards each other. The mystery knight sst his horse well, but Ser Jaime seemed to be leaning heavily on one side. Myrcella spoke from beside her, "Uncle Jaime is feinting towards left but he will strike right. If the mystery knight doesn't read the feint right, this bout is as good as over." 

It turned out, the mystery knight didn't need to read his opponent right. Just when the two were within striking distance, Ser Jaime's mount reared back upsetting his balance. The mystery knight' s lance followed Ser Jaime and before he knew it, he was on the ground. 

A clatter sounded from the back, the king had flung his wine hor in irritation. Some people were demanding a rematch but the bout was done, the mystery knight had won yet again mysteriously. 

"This keeps getting more and more interesting. I would love to hear the excuses Uncle Jaime makes up for this one" Princess Myrcella spoke with amusement dancing in her eyes. 

"You don't like Ser Jaime much, do you. Why is that? He is the most famous knight in the seven kingdoms. "  
" You will find Sansa, that there is a lot more to people in king's landing than their spotless armour, and the songs sung about them. " Princess Myrcella spoke cryptically. 

Could the princess be right? Was there a dark side to a shining knight like Ser Jaime? Could the same be true for others, for Prince Joffrey. Or was the hatred simply like how she seemed to nit like Prince Joffrey. Today was perhaps the most confusing day in the life of Sansa Stark. 

The next match was between the mountain and Ser Loras Tyrell. The mountain couldn't seem to be able to control his monstrous destrier, which contributed to his downfall. However, rather than accept his defeat, the mountain called for his sword and beheaded his mount in a single blow. The sight of blood sprouting freely from the headless corpse scared Sansa but Princess Myrcella held her hand, giving her the composure she needed. The mountain next attacked Ser Loras, throwing him down from his horse. Before he could kill Ser Loras, his brother the hound stepped in and parried away the blow. The two fought in a savage dance with neither giving an inch. It was the king's booming voice that ended the fight. The mountain left in anger but the damage was done. Ser Loras rescinded from the tourney, meaning that the victor of the tourney would be decided on who won between the hound and the mystery knight. There was a real chance that the mystery knight might well win the tourney. This tourney was surely one for the songs. 

***Harry's POV***

The last match was here. Just one more opponent before he had what he wanted the most, recognition and praise of his parents. His father had tested him most severely today, sending half of the kingsguard against him. His performance was sure to please him. His father respected strength. His mother, though, he couldn't say for sure what she respected. She loved the praise and attention which he was sure to get after winning this tourney. Perhaps she would finally see how alike they were? Perhaps this tourney would pave the way for his mother to accept him, if not love him like her other children. 

Harry made a conscious effort to remove such distractions from his mind. All the planning, all the trickery, would be for naught if he allowed himself to be distracted at this stage. The hound was an opponent more formidable than he rest. He matched the mountain in strength and his uncle in dexterity. He would be no easy foe. For most, the hound was an insurmountable hurdle. 

Luckily, he knew about the proverbial chink in the hound's armour. A passive scan had told him about the crippling fear of fire. His leglimency skill told him about the most prevalent thoughts and emotions a person associated with something. The mind was not a book to be read at will. As such, Harry couldn't figure out the cause of the fear, as the hound was so fearful of fire that his mind became a murky mess. 

Harry couldn't care less about the reasons other than to sate his curiosity. For now, just the knowledge was enough. So he had prepared for his final joust of the day. 

Harry reached his end of the list and stared down at the hound helm at the other end. No doubt to every spectator , this would look like a joust from hell. The horned devil against the snarling hound. 

The announcer dropped the handkerchief and the moment the silken cloth hit the ground, Harry kicked at Nimbus and charged forward. Just before the point of impact, he activated a rune on his shield. It was a very basic rune, the likes of which even a child could master, provided he was magical. The rune animated the painted flames on his shield for just a second intended for the hound to lose his composure. The hound did lose his composure but not ij the way Harry had desired. With an almighty cry, the hound struck his shield, breaking it into two and scoring a hit that numbed his shoulder. Thankfully, the distraction had been enough to make the hound lose sight of the centre otherwise Harry would've ended flat on the ground. Harry struck hard in the ribs but it was difficult to tell if the hound felt it or not. 

It seemed like the hound grew bestial in the presence of flames. He was distracted, but his strength grew as well. Even with a reinforced armour, Harry was going to feel that last hit for a fortnight. More importantly, the shield was ruined and Harry had no time to cast a fresh rune. 

The situation looked dire. On the other side, he could see the hound shaking his head, probably believing what he saw was a trick of light.   
A helping hand ran up to him, handing him a clean, unpainted and most importantly, non magical shield. Now this joust depended more on Harry's skill than his tricks. He still had the runes on his armour for strength but the distraction rune wasn't charged. Harry hadn't thought he would need it for this match. 

Getting the signal, the two of them charged yet again. Harry blew out a soft breath, gathering his concentration. The hound was still shaken from what he had seen and not at his 100%.His one and only chance to win this joust was during this charge. 

As the two neared, Harry saw that the hound wasn't lifting the lance straight. So his hit in the ribs had done some damage after all. Borrowing on his uncle's technique, Harry leaned heavily on the far side. The hound, still distracted, didn't account for the deception and centred his lance to strike Harry's middle. Just when the two were about to meet, Harry shifted completely to the other side, making the hound's lance connect with his far side ribs. His own lance struck straight and true, sneaking past the lightly held shield. 

He could almost hear a hundred sighs leave the lips as the hound's back hit the ground.   
He was victorious. He had won despite the challenges, despite his inexperience. He had proved to the entire realm that he was worthy of being a Baratheon. Just like his father, today he had done something thought impossible before. At 15, he had won a major tourney, something never done before since the introduction of tourneys. 

The small folk were cheering for him, the sounds of applause ringing across the pavilions. Whichever way he turned, he could see jublious faces. He saw his father stand up and stopped the trotting Nimbus to hear his words. 

"Congratulations, you have won. Now remove your helm and show me your face. "The king commanded. Harry was more than happy to comply. Grabbing his helm, he removed it to show everyone his face. 

At once, the applause stopped. It was like someone had just turned off the voice. The smiles died, replaced by astonishment. The consternation in every eye was apparent. How could it be the second prince Harry, everyone thought. He is so young, not even a knight yet. 

His father was the first to give voice to all the questions, "How? When?"   
His mother was next, "what is the meaning of this harry? Do you not know, that tourneys are fought by knights, not young boys such as you". The fury was evident on her face. 

"I am a knight now, mother. Ser Moore dubbed me not a week ago. He didn't write to you on my persistence. I wanted to surprise you and father as well as test myself against the best knights of the realm. I must say I am disappointed " Harry replied mixing just the right amount of levity in his tone. 

If he expected to see his mother's mood change, he was disappointed. His father though, acted just as expected. He broke into a booming laugh," Ha, thats my boy, a true Baratheon to the bone. He is disappointed in the knights, he says. Maybe I should grab my armour, show them all how real men ride. Later, you are riding against me. Then we will see how good you are with a lance. Give him his reward, he has earned it. "

A servant ran forward handing him the bag of golden dragons as well as a crown of blue winter roses.   
" You may crown your queen of love and beauty now, my prince" the announcer boomed into the horn. The applause broke out once more, even fiercer than before. This time they were cheering for their prince, not some nameless hedge knight. The nobles seemed to be trying to outdo each other with their praise. Every highborn girl sat with trepid anticipation hoping to be the one crowned by the Prince. 

Harry wasn't attached to any of them, so he had already planned to crown his sister Myrcella to not break any hearts or give any house any ideas about pursuing a royal betrothal. He neared Myrcella and saw joy emanating from her eyes. If there was one person in the red keep who was going to be truly pleased by his presence, it was Myrcella. 

Just as Harry neared Myrcella, his eyes fell on her companion. It was a ghost from his past. He couldn't believe his eyes, it was Ginny sitting right beside Myrcella. 

The hair were the exact same colour, sunset red filling his insides with warmth. The eyes were blue, like pools of unfathomable depth. Wait, weren't Ginny's eyes brown. The face wasn't right as well, with high cheekbones which made this maiden look much more delicate than the rugged Ginny from his dreams. This girl's skin was like porcelain, precious and delicate. She radiated virginity and purity. The more he looked at her, the more she differed from the Ginny from his dreams. It was just the hair, that were unerringly similar. 

Harry didn't care, he felt like he wanted this girl. He wanted to possess her and protect her at the same time. His hands had a life of their own, and before he knew it, the crown of blue winter roses were decorating her red mane. The girl kept her eyes downcast demurely which somehow made her even more desirable. Harry wanted nothing more than to pull her atop his horse and ride away somewhere far where he could explore her beauty in leisure. 

So lost in the ethereal sight before him, Harry didn't notice that once again the crowd had gone deathly silent. It was only Joffrey's shout that broke him out of his trance, "Get away from my betrothed you thief." 

So the girl he had just crowned was Sansa Stark, Joffrey's betrothed. The thought of taking away Joffrey's betrothed from him filled Harry with a dark sense of pleasure. There was no way he was giving up on Sansa Stark now. He wouldn't waste a beauty like Sansa Stark on his brother. The game had just begun.


	7. Chapter 7 - A taste of Lemon cakes

Chapter 7  
The feast held after the tourney was a sumptuous affair. It seemed that the chefs of the Red Keep were trying to outdo each other. No sooner did a person's eyes passed over one delicacy, would the aromatic scent of another assault the senses. There was enough meat on the rows upon rows of tables to feed an entire army. Knights drank and flirted with serving maids, the high born discussed some treaty or intrigue that served their ends and the squires gambled away their earnings. The mood was festive with the sounds of many a singer mingling to produce a melodious cacophony. 

The royal family was sitting on a raised dias, with some of the guests that the king saw fit to honour. There were the Starks, obviously. Sansa sat besides Prince Joffery, with her eyes cast downwards, not daring to look at the other Prince sitting on the other end of the table. Lord Eddard Stark had the place of honour on the King's right side. Thoros of Myr, the King's drinking buddy was seated on his other side, the seat being vacated by the Queen sometime ago. Other guests of honour were the king's brother Lord Renly, Lord Kevan Lannister from the rock, Ser Garlan Tyrell from the reach and Lord Gyles Rosby from the crownlands. 

The king slammed his drained goblet on the table. Immediately, his squire Lancel moved to fill it up but the king shooed him away with a drunken wave. His eyes roamed around the table and rested on his errant son. The conversation they had before the feast was half the reason the king was trying to get roaring drunk. The other half was that he loved his arbour red.   
\--------------------------------------------  
Flashback

"What do you think you were doing boy? “ Harry visibly flinched at the admonishment, disappointing Robert. He had committed many a transgressions when he was the boy's age but at least he had the nerve to face the consequences. It seemed to him like the Baratheon blood wasn't very strong in either of his boys. 

"Whatever do u mean, father? " Harry drawled, immediately feeling irritated by his voice. Being reminded of a certain blonde boy doing nothing good for his mood.

" Crowning your brother's betrothed, wearing those atrocious colors. Do you fancy yourself a Targaryen, boy? "

" I didn't know she was Joffery's betrothed. I wasn't invited on the trip to Winterfell, remember. How was I supposed to know what Sansa Stark looked like. Though I must say, the girl is wasted on the wretch. " Harry replied with more than a little heat in his voice. 

" That's your brother and your crown prince you are talking about. Show some respect, boy. " Cersei interjected. Trust the woman to give the boys more reason to fight, Robert thought. He wanted nothing more than for his boys to atleast stay civil to each other for as long as Harry was in the city. It was no wonder their family was as dysfunctional as it was. 

" Seven save us all from King Joffery's reign. " Harry replied rolling his eyes. 

" Enough with your cheek boy. Not half a day in King's Landing and what a fine mess you have caused. Now listen here, you will conduct yourself as befitting a Prince at the feast. Not one more argument between you two. I don't want to hear you two at each other's throats or I swear by the seven, you both will rue this day for the rest of your lives“ he roared before storming off. Gods, he needed a drink. 

Harry saw his father storm off with fury etched on his face. His mother gave him a disapproving look before guiding Joffrey out of the tent. He caught the mocking eyes of Joffrey but his father's fury made him swallow his jibe. Just when he meant to follow the rest of his family out, a soft hand came upon his chest making him stop. 

"You don't think you got off the hook already, brother? " the sweet voice of Myrcella immediately brought a smile to his face. When had the girl slipped in he did not know.

"I missed you too Cella" Harry said, moving to hug his sister but once again her hand on his chest pushed back. 

"You have a nice way of showing it, by fighting a tourney and then not even crowning me!“ Myrcella replied with a hint of amusement in her voice. 

"Forgive me, sister. I did mean to crown you, but... " 

" But the irresistible beauty of Sansa Stark blinded you. I know, I could see it on your face. Too bad she is betrothed to Joff, isn't it. “ Myrcella cut in. 

"We'll see about that. “ Harry said, with a smile dancing on his lips. 

Myrcella gasped, "You don't mean to do something naughty, do you brother? The girl is naive and utterly in love with Joff. You will not sway her with sweet words." 

Harry just continued smiling, "Is that so, why don't you tell me more about Sansa Stark“

“You are horrible, brother. And this time you can't claim to not know that the girl is betrothed. Maybe you are more Targaryen than you realize. Great grandmother Rhaella's blood must be strong in you. “

“By the seven, what is with all you people. Surely, a lot more people have crowned their brother's betrothed in a tourney before me. "

" Not as many as you might think. But the reason everyone thought you were a Targaryen was due to your colors and your sigil. Tell me, what made you think those colors were a good idea? "

Harry slapped his forehead," Honestly, I just mixed father's colors with mother's. I didn't want to wear black and gold as that would have made me look like a Baratheon. So i replaced the gold with mother's red. I didn't realize that i had ended up with Targaryen colors. It's not like I see these colors around a lot. "

" With good reason, brother. This is why you should've paid more attention to Old Pycelle's lessons. Then you wouldn't have forgotten such a critical thing. Now what was with the cooked chicken on your sigil? Were you mixing Targaryen fire with Colbright rooster? "

Harry lightly slapped the back of Myrcella's head," Don't mock your brother Cella, or do you want to sit with Joffrey for the feast? As for the sigil, it is a pheonix. It's an immortal magical creature that represents rebirth. Everytime it dies, it gets reborn from it's own ashes. "

Myrcella suddenly looked solemn," From your dreams, then. How has your... condition been. Anything new? “

Harry knew she was referring to his magic. Myrcella was the only one in family he had shared his abilities with on his many trips to King's Landing over the years. 

"Nothing new, it seems to have peaked. Not nearly as good as it should be. I can't figure out the reason. Maybe the answer lies in the north, since those lands have been associated with my....condition more than anything else in westeros. “

“I went through the libraries at winterfell, you know. There are lots of tales about weirwoods and children of the forest. But I couldn't find any proof about similar condition in the current members of the Stark family. Perhaps their blood has been too diluted, who knows. The only thing I found strange in Winterfell was that every one of the Stark children had a direwolf as pet. I didn't think such ferocious animals could be tamed but seemed meeker than hounds towards their masters. Ofcourse, the same isn't true about others, as dear Joff learned in great detail and agony. "

" Ohh, do tell. What did Joffrey do this time? “

"Nothing smart, I assure you. He threatened the younger Stark girl, Arya with his new blade. The girl, disarmed him. Honestly, how he became a knight is beyond me. Then the beast took a nibble out of him before running away. You should've heard him shriek, you would think he had been gored. He still has the marks on his arms, if you want to look. Of course mother wasn't pleased and wanted the girl's hand. When she couldn't get that, she wanted a wolf pelt. Since Arya's beast had run off into the jungle, they took Sansa's beast. ". 

" And the girl still loves Joffrey? "Harry asked incredulously. 

" Ohh she definitely does, or at least the idea of Joffrey. You know , crown prince, golden knight, all that. Besides, she deserved what she got. She witnessed the whole event but after mother pressured her, she failed to remember anything so father didn't have much of a choice than acquiesce to mother's demands. "

" So the girl wants to be a queen. She is the power hungry types? I thought she was more innocent and naive . "

" ohh no, or at least not yet. She is just in love with the idea of being the queen. I don't think she even realizes the kind of power and influence the position brings with it. She is just living out her favorite songs and stories. “

“How... cute! “

“Close your mouth, brother. You are drooling. Sansa Stark isn't going to make it out of your machinations with her innocence and purity, is she? "

" Joffrey doesn't deserve something as good as Sansa, and I will make sure of that. Her innocence may not survive, but she will thank me for it later. And I think I told you not to mock me. I guess you really want to sit with Joffrey. “

“How can you even say such a thing Harry. You know how much I despise him. It's his fault we can't even live together and that I see you for such short durations . “

“I was japing Cella, you know I am not so cruel as to inflict Joffrey's company on you on such a fine evening. "

Myrcella just smiled and embraced her brother. Just hugging him brought a feeling of serenity to her, something she had been missing for a long time.

" I missed you Harry" she murmured into his chest. 

"I did too Cella, I missed you too. "

Finally, her brother was where he belonged, at home with her. 

Flashback ends  
\----------------------------------------------------  
" So boy, tell me how you got dubbed. Moore isn't that easy a man to knight you before you were ready. Unlike some others, who think knighthood is like candy to be handed out to petulant children. " the king looked pointedly in the direction of Jaime Lannister. Harry knew it was a jibe at him knighting Joffrey on the insistence of his mother. Joffrey had wanted to be a knight before him, but he wasn't willing to put in the effort as was evident from him getting disarmed by a nine year old girl. Maybe he was being a little too hypocritical here, since he himself had cheated a little to earn his spurs. But was using one's ability really cheating? If he was different from others, then there was no point in playing by their rules. 

"I defeated Ser Moore in single combat, father. “ Harry replied proudly earning more than a few gasps from around the table. 

"Haa, you hear that Ned, my son defeated a kingsguard in single combat. And not pansies like that Lannister there, who are more interested in shining their armour, no he defeated Moore, that sullen bastard. Jon would've been so proud of you today, boy. It was his idea, you know, to have you sent to Storm's End. Every Baratheon needs space to rage Robert, he said. Send the boy to Storm's End, he will have room to grow and learn of the lands he is meant to rule. And what a fine knight you have grown to be, defeating Kingsguard and winning tourneys. Old Jon was never wrong, was he. " his father said. Harry's chest burned with a fierce happiness. His father was proud of him. Myrcella, as if sensing his emotions, grabbed his hand underneath the table and smiled brightly at him, congratulating him wordlessly. 

" No Robert, he wasn't. He had more insight than the rest of us combined. May the gods give peace to his soul. " Lord Stark remarked solemnly. Eddard Stark looked like a man who didn't know how to smile. That, or he was really angry at him for crowning his daughter. More than once, the man had looked his way with a glare that promised Winter was coming for him. This was one man he would have to make amends with later. It wouldn't do to have Sansa's father think ill of him. 

"You have done well, boy, but why are you still so skinny. Are you running low on rations at Storm's End? Tell him, Ned. Tell him how I was when I was his age. "

" You were a big brute Robert" Lord Stark replied with the same solemn tone but even he could tell that this was said in humour. 

"Bwahahhaha... Is that any way to talk about your king, Ned? Hahhaaaha, I was a brute, wasn't I? Uncivilized, untamed, until Lyanna came around. She made me want to be a proper Lord for her. Ohh, how we loved each other. If it wasn't for that filthy white haired bastard, we would've been bound by blood today. " His father's mood did a full flip, going from full blown laughter to depressed in an instant. Lyanna Stark was such a woman, whose shadow could be felt on their family even to this day. Perhaps, Stark woman were the undoing of Baratheon men. Harry couldn't help but draw parallels between Lyanna Stark and Sansa Stark. He was now realizing the full magnitude of his actions. 

His father snatched a horn of arbour red from Lancel's hand and gulped it down. He could see thin streaks of wine running down his chin and onto his doublet as he drank like a man marooned at sea. It was as undignified as it could get but not one person said anything, he was the king after all. 

Apparently his mother didn't feel the same way. "Robert dear, is there a reason to mention that woman on this joyous occasion." 

"Shut your mouth, woman. I won't tolerate anything against Lyanna." His father snapped back. Harry couldn't help but feel angry at this. There was no reason to insult his mother over the memory of a dead woman. He felt bad for his mother. 

Cersei, obviously feeling insulted, got up and walked away in a flurry of skirts. The kingsguard Jaime Lannister was soon on her heels. 

"That was too far father" Harry spoke in defense of his mother. 

"You shut your mouth too brat. Just because you can ride a horse straight now doesn't give you a right to correct your king. What? You think you are some hotshot now that you can swing a sword? Ned, Ned, tell the little shit what happened to the last man who thought it was a good idea to swing a sword near me. I bashed the bastard's chest in. That's right, I bashed his chest in so hard they named a bloody river after it. " His father continued drunkenly. 

The entire table had gone silent. The king had indirectly threatened his own son with death. Someone dropped a spoon at the other end of the table and the clang reverberated through the space. 

Harry's face burned bright red. Never had he been so humiliated in so public a setting. His father was drunk, and he was seeing Targaryens in every voice against his beloved Lyanna. 

A hand snaked its way into his lap and took hold of his tightly clutched hand. Looking to the side, he saw Myrcella, trying to give him what little support she could. 

"Robert you are drunk" fortunately, it was Lord Stark that broke the awkward moment. Even his father seemed to realize what had just happened. 

"Bloody hell, shouldn't have said that. Bloody hell. " The king shook his head and flung the horn of wine away. He got up and left, followed by a couple of king's guard and his loyal friend Ned Stark. 

Even though the king left, the awkwardness of the moment hung in the air like something heavy. Most of the guests looked around furtively before starting to talk among themselves or leaving for the night. 

Harry could see Joffrey smirking at him from the opposite side of the table. Obviously the bastard was pleased as if he had accomplished some wonderful feat. Harry wanted nothing more than to jump up and pummel the smile right off his face. 

"Dessert for you, your grace" a voice sounded from besides him. 

"Take it away" Harry tried to wave away the familiar sounding voice. He was in no mood to eat after what had happened. 

"I am sure you will like it, your grace" the serving maid persisted. 

Harry made to reprimand the persistent maid and turned an annoyed look at the dish before stopping visibly. Before him was a plate of treacle tarts. Wait, no one here knows how to make this. He turned towards the maid to find Kara smiling at him coquettishly. She was dressed like one of the many maids and holding a jar of Northern Ale in her hand. She winked at him and made to walk away. Trust Kara to know how to lift his mood.

Unfortunately, more bitterness was on menu for him tonight. Joffrey seemed to notice the exchange and recognized the maid. 

"You there, wench, pour me some wine. " he ordered Kara. 

" Your grace, this is Northern Ale for the commoners, not the arbour gold you are drinking. " Kara replied very humbly. He had warned Kara not to give Joffrey any chance to be vengeful since he would definitely take it to get back at him. 

Joffrey simply lifted his goblet and overturned it, spilling it's contents." Pour"

Harry had a bad feeling about this. Joffrey was definitely planning something. Kara had no choice but to walk around the table to reach Joffrey. Joffrey took the moment to send another mocking smile at him. Nothing good was going to come out of this and Joffrey was too bold for his liking. 

Joffrey struck the moment Kara stood besides him. When she made to pour his wine,his hand moved to rest on her behind. Harry saw red. How dare he! How dare he touch his Kara! The hand moved and squeezed, holding Kara in place even after she had finished pouring. 

Joffrey picked up the goblet with one hand, keeping his other resting on Kara's plump behind. 

"This tastes like horse piss, but atleast I got to see your pretty face up close. You don't work at the red keep, do you? "Joffrey asked while continuing his ministrations. 

" N.. No, your gr.. your grace. I, I came with the party from Storm's End. " 

" I guessed as much. They don't make them as soft as you in king's landing" That bastard, he was taunting Harry to his face. He made to get up but a tug from Cella kept him in his seat. 

Kara was squirming in Joffrey's grasp now. Joffrey let go of her behind and instead pulled Kara into his lap. 

It was too much for Harry. He could feel his magic pulsing in his veins"Enough Joffrey, let the girl go" 

"Why, brother dear, is she someone important to you? " Joffrey asked in that irritating voice of his. 

" You know perfectly well who she is? “ Harry growled back. He better let her go before Harry did something he would come to regret. 

“Your whore, so what? Go find a new one. There are plenty like her around. Or do you want to start a fight here at the feast? You remember father's warning, don't you? Be a good boy Harry, and shut up. " Joffrey snapped at him. 

" Now, my dear, why have you come to King's Landing, besides the obvious" Joffrey said returning his attention to Kara in his lap. Even though he was talking to her,the arm that went around her was resting on her thigh, prominently in Harry 's view. What' s more, the hand was bunching up her skirt, making it rise slowly above her knees. It was all Harry could do to rein in his magic which begged to lash out and slice off the hand tugging at Kara's skirts. 

Kara noticed her rising skirts and tried to pull the hem down but Joffrey batted her hands away. "Please your grace" Kara pleaded to Joffrey. Never had he seen her sound so weak and desperate. He looked around, trying to find someone to end this farce. But neither mother nor father were around and Joffrey would never listen to one of the lords, not that they would speak against him. Even bloody Eddard Stark wasn't around, it was his daughter who was being humiliated too. Some kind of father he was, leaving his daughter unattended. Sansa Stark seemed shocked beyond her belief, as if not trusting her eyes. 

"Answer me, wench" Joffrey spoke with a maniacal gleam in his eyes. 

"I.. I the city, your grace. I wanted to see the city again. " Kara made another futile attempt at pulling her skirt down. It was riding high enough to show off most of her pale legs now. How far was Joffrey willing to go? 

“Yes, the city is beautiful isn't it? You know you can see the entire city from the window in my quarters. Why don't I take you there to show you? You will see some true beauty tonight" Joffrey propositioned. 

Too far. He went too far. Harry couldn't take it anymore. His magic begged for release, to crush this vile insect in front of him. He got up so fast that the chair fell behind him. Clegane spotted his movement and his hand immediately moved to his sheath. Harry angrily stabbed the table with the knife in his hand. "Move it Joffrey, or you will lose much more than a finger" Harry growled, meaning every word of his threat. If Joffrey didn't back down now, there would be blood, damn the consequences. 

Harry's movement made Joffrey flinch before he calmed down. "Is that a threat, brother?" He was smiling again but now the smile seemed stretched. Everyone around the table could feel a heavy ominous presence. His magic was saturating the air, waiting on him for direction. Every eye on the table was drawn to Harry. 

"No, it was a warning, I will be the one castrating you, brother and unlike Harry, father never asked me to play nice with you" it was Cella who spoke from besides Joffrey. When had the girl moved from besides him to next to Joffrey, he couldn't say, but boy was he glad. 

"Come girl, you can prepare my bed for me. My serving girl is an imbecile anyway. " Cella took hold of Kara's hand and pulled her out of Joffrey's lap.

Joffrey looked furiously at Cella. " This isn't over"

"Yes it is. I want nothing more to do with you. Goodnight Harry" Cella spoke and walked off with Kara. Joffrey was apoplectic with rage. His face reddened like a red tomato. He flew out of his chair, knocking it back, before storming off to the red keep himself. Harry guessed he was going to complain to mother. 

Most of the guests sensed the end to the drama and decided to call it a night. Many of the smallfolks and guardsmen were still drinking but they were of no consequence. 

Cella had really swooped in at the right moment today or Harry didn't know what he was going to do. Probably kill Joffrey or get killed by Clegane while trying to get to Joffrey. Moving his gaze to Joffrey's loyal dog, an interesting sight met his eyes. Joffrey had forgotten all about his betrothed and now she had no one to escort her back to the red keep. That is, no one besides the Hound. A sinister smile graced his lips. It was time for payback.   
\---------------------------------------------------  
Sansa Stark realized with a start that there were no familiar faces around. Her father had left with the king, Septa Mordane had taken a sleepy Jeyne away long ago and even Prince Joffrey had stomped off. Actually, that last one was better. After his atrocious behavior at the table, she wasn't sure if she wanted to be accompanied by Prince Joffrey. The night had started with the prince being an epitome of courtesies. He paid her compliments, japed with her, made her laugh and even told her little tid bits about the guests on the royal table. Sansa quite forgot all her courtesies and lost herself, captivated by the charm of her golden Prince. 

Perhaps the prince was as bad at handling his drink as his father? She sure had seen the Prince drink quite a lot more than at Winterfell. Didn't the entire unfortunate affair begin after that blasted wench had brought yet more wine for the Prince? Sansa was confused, she didn't know what to think about any of the royal children anymore. Only sweet Tommen's behaviour seemed to be consistent. He liked his cats at winterfell and he still liked them. 

The bad blood between the two Princes was clear as day. Princess Myrcella had taken her side with Prince Harry. The king didn't seem too fond of either of the Princes. His behaviours was yet another one of the many strange behaviors from people of the red keep. He seemed to be a different man before and after his drinks. His mood changed too quickly. He could be praising his son and threatening to kill in a space of minutes. 

"Let's go back to the keep little bird" a gruff voice sounded from behind her. Sansa turned and a gasp escaped her mouth. Not Sandor, surely there was someone else who could escort her. The man scared her, with his nightmarishly horrific face and crude manners. 

"You are not the only one who needs to sleep and I have had too much to drink. I might have to kill my brother tomorrow at the melee. " the gruff voice barked at her. 

Sansa was scared, she didn't want to go with him, yet she had no other choice. She told herself a true lady wouldn't be scared of someone's face. Just as she was about to leave with him, a voice stopped her in her tracks. 

"Can't you see, Hound. You are scaring the poor girl. I will take her back. Go find your ball of hay and sleep off your wine. " it was the Prince, not her Prince Joffrey but Prince Harry. Gallant Prince Harry, who had won the tourney, trouncing knights twice his age. Prince Harry, who had crowned her as his Queen of Love and Beauty, to the scandal of many. She didn't know whether to be relieved or even more worried about her new escort. Surely Prince Harry was too gallant to do anything untoward, she reasoned. 

"Piss off boy, I am not leaving the little bird to you after all that happened today. "

" That's Prince Harrison to you. Tell me, dog, are you so eager for another trouncing in the same day. Has your ass stopped hurting already? “ Prince Harry mocked Ser Sandor on his defeat in the finals. 

"Lucky win, it was... it was the fire on your shield" Ser Sandor replied with a far away look in his eyes. 

Prince Harry just smirked in response. "Go sleep off your wine, Hound and make up a better excuse when you are more coherent tomorrow. Or are you going to challenge me with your blade? " Prince Harry's hand came to rest on his sword. She didn't want the two knights to fight over her. Whatever the result, it was Ser Sandor who would lose. He couldn't get away for raising his blade against royalty. 

Ser Sandor glared at her. He wanted her to choose her escort. Handsome Prince Harry or the ugly Ser Sandor, it wasn't a very difficult choice. She took a small step towards Prince Harry. Ser Sandor looked furious. He spat angrily at the ground before turning around and leaving. 

"Allow me, my lady" Prince Harry extended his arm for her to take, just like a perfect knight. She took his arm and they began to walk. 

"You rode very gallantly at the tourney today, your grace. "

" Don't call me that Sansa, we are to be family after all. Just Harry is fine"

"Alright, Harry" she tested the name on her lips, shyly. It seemed to please the Prince. 

"As for the tourney, I won, didn't I. So I must have been doing something right. You looked very beautiful too, my lady. It was a good thing I didn't see you earlier or I don't think I would have stood a chance of winning the tourney."  
The compliment made her blush. Something funny jumped inside her stomach too. Ignoring the feeling, she changed the topic. " Who taught you to ride like that"

"Mostly intuition, Sansa. But I have squired for Ser Mandon Moore of the kingsguard for a long time as you know. "

" Yes, I heard. Prince Joffrey has also squired for Ser Jaime. "

" More like Joffrey threw a fit amd uncle Jaime dubbed him on his shoulder. I can better a thousand dragons that Joffrey has never cleaned Jaime's armour or tended to his horse. " There it was again, the animosity between the Princes. 

" The Prince and you don't get along much, do you? Forgive me, I shouldn't have presumed so much"

"Enough Sansa, you have a right to ask. You are the one who is stuck marrying him after all. Yes, Joffrey and I don't get along much. That's because Joffrey is cruel, vindictive and somewhat mad. I know I shouldn't speak like this of my own brother but you saw proof of it at the feast tonight. That wasn't a one-off incident. The girl, Kara, has been my friend since I left for Storm's End all those years ago. She is, special to me. Joffrey recognized her and intentionally humiliated her to get back at me. "

" Surely things can't be as bad as that? “

“Listen Sansa, I do not want to influence your opinion of Joffrey. All I will ask of you is to judge him objectively. He can seem very charming when he wants to be. But the real Joffrey is who you glimpsed at the table tonight. "

Sansa was silent for sometime. Harry was pleased with himself. He had done his job of planting a seed of doubt in her mind. Now it was time to let it grow. Seeking to steer the conversation in another direction, he asked," How have you liked King's Landing so far? “

“Ohh, it is like a dream. I love the city. There is just so much here that I want to see. The harbour, the market, the cloth bazaar, the musicians alley. I want to see it all but there is just no time. "

" Calm down Sansa, take a breath. You can see them all. You have plenty of free time in the day, don't you? "

" Yes but father is always busy and... Prince Joffrey wouldn't go without his litter. That just brings too much attention. "

" Yes but it gives you security too you know, I doubt they would let you travel without much security. "

" I know"

"You know I have travelled the city often enough under a disguise. Maybe one of these days, I will steal you from the Hand's tower, disguise you and show you around King's Landing. " The Prince said, taking a step towards her. They had finally reached her chambers inside the Hand's tower. 

" You will? “ she asked, with hoping blossoming in her heart. 

“Ofcourse, I have some responsibility towards my Queen of Love and beauty. “ prince Harry's hand reached up to catch one of her curls that had escaped her bun and tucked it behind her ear. His touch made her shiver. 

"You know, there is one part of my reward I was denied today after crowning you. "

" What par... " Sansa began to question before a pair of lips closed down on hers. She gasped in surprise and that was all the opening the Prince needed to slip his tongue inside her mouth. The Prince's lips tasted of chocolate and apples. The tongue burned her wherever it slithered inside her mouth. She tried to battle it with her own, push it out but quickly lost the battle. This was true kissing, the one maidens giggled about and the one that knights gave their Princesses after rescuing them. This was nothing like the pecks she had from Prince Joffrey. She thought she liked those but this kiss made her realize how truly naive she had been. This kiss filled her with wanton desire. The Prince's lips radiated heat like hot coals and something squirmed deep inside her belly. The Prince's hand had snaked around her waist, holding her flush against him. Her own hand had bunched up in his tunic near the collar, somehow holding on for dear life. Just as she thought she would die for lack of breath, the Prince pulled back. She was heaving for breath, she realized. That kiss had the zeal of life and the promise of death in it. She thought she could lose herself in that kiss, completely consumed by the fire the Prince's lips seemed to light. 

"Thank you for the reward, my Queen. " Prince Harry spoke before turning around. My queen, she liked the sound of that. She rushed inside her chambers and slammed the door behind her, her breath short. 

She wanted more, she wanted so much more. But she didn't know what she want. She wanted nothing more to open the door, run out and fling herself back into Prince Harry's arms. But was it what she wanted? She had already given more than she was ever supposed to. This man wasn't the one she was supposed to kiss. This was wrong, she could lose her head for betraying the crown Prince. But what a glorious way to go it would be, in the arms of her gallant Prince. 

Her gallant Prince, where did that come from? Her Prince was Prince Joffrey, the golden Prince, the one who was going to make her Queen of all Seven realms. Prince Joffrey was handsome, all the girls said so. He was smart, and most importantly, he was the man her father had betrothed her to. But he didn't kiss like that, a traitorous voice spoke from the back of her mind. 

No, no, no, no. She couldn't think like that. Sansa flung herself on her bed, burying her face between the soft pillows. Sleep wasn't going to come easily tonight.   
\----------------------------------------------------  
Harry entered his room to find the most appealing site awaiting him. Sprawled on his bed was the naked form of Kara. Kara was lying on her stomach, with her head propped up on her arms giving him a smouldering look. 

"Your reward for winning the tourney awaits you, your grace." she spoke with a look of pure lust in her eyes. Within moments, he divested himself of his clothing and pounced on his prey.

Their lips met in a ferocious entanglement as both of them tried to consume the other. After what the crown Prince had done, they both needed this. Without any foreplay, Harry reached between the two and pushed his member inside her waiting womanhood eliciting a gasp from her. Surprisingly, Kara was quite wet and ready for him. So Harry began to mercilessly pound her into the mattress,not letting up for even a moment 

Moans and gasps escaped Kara's lips freely as Harry gave her no respite. His mouth was latched on to her breasts, alternating between sucking and biting. Kara realized that Harry was in no mood to make love tonight. No, tonight he was going to fuck her brains out. She had some inkling that this was going to happen tonight. Tourneys were battles and men got their blood up after a battle. The exchange with the crown prince during the feast wouldn't have done anything for his mood either. After such a day, their was no room for delicate touches and soft caresses. 

She dimly realized Harry pulling out and turning her around to make her rest on her hands and knees. Taking her from behind was okay but she didn't really like it when he took her in the other hole. Buggery was a sin, the seven said so. But tonight was not a night when Harry would listen to her protests. 

"How dare that bastard touch what is mine" harry growled. A stinging slap on her behind made it clear to her who the bastard was. 

"I took a bath Harry, and burned the dress. That's two dresses you owe me now..ow..ow" the end of her speech turning into whimpers as Harry pushed inside her. 

"Good" Harry's breath ghosted over her neck as he nipped at her and grabbed her breasts. "You know where the money is, just buy as many as you want love" 

"That's not..ahh..not what i want. I want to go buy them with youowww. Would it kill you to be a little gentle. You sure are in a feisty mood tonight. " she complained praying Harry would listen. 

Thankfully he did. He slowed down the speed of pumping his member into her butt." Forgive me, you just are so irresistible tonight Kara. "

" If that is so, then what kept you so long" failing to keep the pleased tone out of her voice. 

"Ohh, i was just getting a taste of some lemon cakes" Harry replied mysteriously before erupting deep inside her.


End file.
